


My Equestrian Academia

by WindWhisper (GalacticMagicStudios)



Category: Free Rein (TV), Ride (TV), 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mineta Minoru Doesn't Exist, Dekusquad, Everybody has a horse, Everybody is Horsecrazy, Family Friendly Themes, Feel-good, Friendship, Gen, Horseback Riding, I love horses, Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-A, UA High School, class 1-a - Freeform, critique appreciated, equestrian AU, not heroes, quirkless au, show jumping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:40:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26093518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalacticMagicStudios/pseuds/WindWhisper
Summary: A My Hero Academia AU in which everything is essentially the same except that instead of quirks and heroes, there are horses. Everybody is horse-crazy. U.A. is a prestigious equestrian school that Izuku Midoriya has dreamed of attending since he first learned how to ride. There's just one problem: Midoriya doesn't have his own horse, which is a necessity if he is to continue riding at U.A.For all the horse lovers in the MHA fandom.
Relationships: Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya & Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya & Uraraka Ochako, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto, Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochako, Midoriya Izuku & Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Todoroki Shouto & Uraraka Ochako
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. The Qualifier Round

**Author's Note:**

> My Hero Academia and all associated characters, names and settings are the intellectual property of Kohei Horikoshi. I do not own anything.
> 
> Inspiration taken from Free Rein and Ride.

Firefly snorted as we passed the rolled-up arena door. Her warm breath was visible for a moment and then vanished into the thick fog outside. The show arena, just a few metres away, was invisible in the white vapour. I hoped that it would rise before the show started. The dampness it would leave behind wasn’t ideal, but at least we’d be able to see our lines and takeoff points. 

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was an hour and a half past sunrise and two hours since I’d woken up. After spending most of that time grooming the horses until they almost shone, and making sure that all our show turnout was on and properly tidy, we were just starting to warm up. 

The arena was noisy with the 19 other horses and riders, pounding hooves in the dirt or talking. There was music playing through the sound system, quiet enough to not drown out Mr. Aizawa, but loud enough to keep us all awake. I didn’t need the extra help for that, though. I was too nervous. With my stomach tying itself into knots and my heart pounding all through the night, I was surprised that I’d gotten any sleep at all. Then I’d woken up before my alarm and been the first to the barn, following the dirt lane by memory since I couldn’t see the building until it was right in front of me. 

The entire last year of my life had led up to this moment. All of Mr. Yagi’s training and all the competitions might end up being for nothing if I couldn’t finish the qualifiers with a high enough ranking. If I didn’t, I’d be expelled from U.A.’s horsemanship program and that would be the end. Of course, I could always work hard and save up and maybe one day I’d be able to afford a horse - but how long would that take? Everyone else could be successful equestrians by then and I’d be starting from the bottom, again. After getting this far, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go through it all a second time. 

“Hey, Midoriya?” 

I blinked and realized that I’d been riding on autopilot, with Firefly doing all the work to keep from colliding with anyone else as we circled the arena. The garage door was already coming up on our right, again. And Ochaco Uraraka had appeared on our left. 

“You were doing that muttering thing again,” she said, cheeks slightly flushed as she grinned. 

“I was? I’m sorry!” I said, turning to her. Fly began to step into Uraraka’s mount, Starmaker, and I adjusted my balance to bring my mare back on track. We passed the door and I noticed that the fog had cleared enough that I could see blue sky overhead. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Uraraka said. “I just don’t want you getting distracted when it’s time to jump.” 

“Right.”

“Are you not going to take your own advice?” Shoto Todoroki asked calmly, coming up on Uraraka’s other side. “ ‘Don’t overthink it and just ride.’ That’s what you said.”

“Oh, Uno reverse on Midoriya!” Uraraka said. 

I looked at her with confusion, mirrored in the frowns of Todoroki and Tenya Iida, who had joined us. 

“You know, the card game. Todoroki turned Midoriya’s advice back on him, like a reverse in Uno.” 

“Well, it’s very good advice,” Iida said in his deep, measured voice. 

“Oh, nevermind,” Uraraka said. “Let’s just all agree to do our best, right?”

“Of course,” Iida said. “And we should be riding in single file. We’re taking up too much space this way.” 

He urged Ingenium into a trot and pulled ahead of us. Todoroki followed him a moment later, while I tugged on the reins to bring Fly back and let Uraraka go ahead. She moved into the spot but didn’t start trotting. I watched her go from nudging Star’s sides with her heels to giving full-on kicks. The gelding trotted for a couple of paces, then settled into a fast walk. 

“Um, do you have a crop?” I called up. A few of our classmates passed us. 

“Oh, yeah! I usually forget that I’m holding it!”

“Try using it, then keep pressure on his sides,” I said. 

“Okay.”

Uraraka tapped Star’s shoulder with the crop generously, but the lazy bay horse ignored her until she finally gave him a true hit. Then he performed a tiny jump and strode into a trot. Uraraka pushed her heels into his sides and found her posting rhythm, rising and falling with the movement of Star’s right shoulder. 

I urged Fly into a trot. Iida and Todoroki had nearly lapped us by that point, and Kacchan gave me a hate-filled glare as he passed on Zero, as if the slow pace was my fault. I gulped. I’d never beaten him in a competition before. Not that there’d been many chances. But could I do it now, when it mattered the most? 

“Alright,” Mr. Aizawa called out. “Everyone line up at E, according to your order of go.” 

I turned Fly into the center of the arena and asked her to stop, then waited for Koda to get in line before I did. Our order of go was just our surnames, alphabetized, which made it easy to remember. Even so, there was an erratic shuffle to line up. Iida left the group to try and direct everyone, swinging his long arms methodically, although most people didn’t seem to be paying attention. 

It still took only a couple of minutes before Creati and her rider, Momo Yaoyorozu were taking their place at the end of the line, and Mr. Aizawa was calling us one by one to take the jumps set up in the center of the arena. 

It was a simple combination of two jumps, each set at 3 feet high. Counting strides in between would be important. 

Everyone began clearing the jumps without any issues, and I felt my stomach turn over again. The entire class was so good, all with nearly flawless equestrianism and horse-rider connection. And most of them had been riding for years, much longer than I had. I’d known from the first day that I’d need to compete not only with my friends but with some top tier equestrians, but now that it was actually happening, I was beginning to doubt if I could do it. 

I watched Kacchan and Ground Zero canter along the far side of the arena, in perfect sync. They cleared each jump with room to spare, as usual. 

Shortly after, Iida followed with another perfect performance, showing a clear connection with Ingenium as he moved with his horse. 

By the time my turn came, Firefly was nearly asleep on her feet, her whole body relaxed beneath my tense one. When Mr. Aizawa waved me ahead, I took a couple of deep breaths and focused on loosening up so that I could follow Fly’s motion. As I urged her into a canter, I let myself move with her strides, making sure not to sit stiffly in the saddle. Her right leg was already stretching further than her left with each step, so at least I didn’t need to change the lead. 

I watched the end of the arena as we ran down the wall, then pivoted to guide her into the corner. Back beside the door, I finally felt warm sunlight on my side. But my horse and I were still bending into the turn, lining up to the jumps. I reminded myself to look at the far end of the arena, felt my horse’s muscles coil, and let the forward motion of her takeoff carry me into the half-standing, half-crouching jumping position for a second. 

Then we landed on the other side of the obstacle, and I asked her to switch her lead to her left hoof for two strides. We took off slightly early for the next jump but got over it. 

I turned back to the far wall, then took an early corner towards the center of the arena, leaving space for Takeoff and his rider, Mashirao Ojiro, to canter past. 

Iida had ridden Ingenium out of the way of the first jump, and I joined them. We congratulated each other’s practices, then silently watched the rest of our class take the jumps. Todoroki joined us after his own perfect performance, smiling slightly. 

Then it was Uraraka’s turn. 

Starmaker balked at the first jump and made it sloppy, then refused the second. I frowned. She needed to do as well as I did if she wanted to stay at the school. 

Mr. Aizawa said nothing and his face was unreadable. But Uraraka made the right choice, to circle near us. I noticed her crop was almost dangling from her hand and couldn’t help but whisper, “Crop,” as she passed us. Uraraka gave me a wide-eyed look but finished her circle. On the second jump, she tapped the stick to Star’s shoulder when he balked at her heel. He jumped sloppily again. 

“Try it again,” Mr. Aizawa said. 

Uraraka’s face turned pink but she turned back to the wall and returned to the jumps. This time, she used the crop along with her leg pressure on both jumps and Star begrudgingly took them at a bit of a slow pace. At least he got over both. 

Mr. Aizawa nodded and called Yaoyorozu forward. 

“Thanks for the reminder,” Uraraka said breathlessly as she joined the rest of us. Her brown bangs were starting to stick to her sweaty forehead.

“You’re welcome.”

“My old instructor was really insistent on the crop being used as a last resort, but I guess I took that to mean never. Oh man, my legs are killing me.”

“You should do some stretches while we wait for the show to begin,” Iida said. 

“Right.” 

When Yaoyorozu finished her practice, Mr. Aizawa told us to wait until our numbers were called to head out to the arena. Another staff member would be coming in soon to supervise us if we wanted to practice any more. Then he left us to warm up. 

The fog was completely burned off by then, leaving behind water that was clinging to the edges of the open arena door and dripping from the roof. But at least the sun was shining bright, revealing the show ring, the gathering crowd, and the mountains that overlooked U.A.’s campus. 

It wouldn’t be long until I competed. I just had to keep from overthinking it all.


	2. Chapter 2

“We can jump now. Mr. Yagi is here,” Todoroki said. I followed his pointing finger to where our other teacher, and my mentor, was standing just inside the arena’s stable connection. 

“Great!” Uraraka said. “I’ll do a few more lines, then!”

“I probably should, too,” I said. We turned towards the nearest wall and urged our horses into a trot. When Star ignored Uraraka’s leg pressure and kicks, she used the crop again and surged ahead into a canter. 

I gave a couple of seconds to let space grow, but the arena was too crowded for much. At just over a single horse length between us, I tapped Fly’s sides until she cantered, too. As we turned the corner beside Mr. Yagi, I shifted the reins to my left hand so that I could wave with the other. He grinned and waved back. 

Then, as I followed Uraraka down the long wall, I turned my gaze just slightly to watch the horses and riders already taking the jumps again. I could recognize most of them by their horses. Tsuyu Asui and her mare, Froppy, were just clearing the second jump and the little dun Fjord was easily getting over it as if she were a much taller horse. 

They were followed by Hitoshi Shinso and Latte. Just like Uraraka and I, Shinso didn’t own a horse yet and even though I hadn’t talked to him often, I could tell that he wasn’t going to let much hold him back. He’d be riding hard in these qualifiers. 

Finally, Kacchan and Ground Zero rode to the line. As usual, Zero looked like he had invisible wings as he stretched out over the jumps. 

Uraraka turned to the jumps next. I had to circle at the end of the arena to give her space and missed seeing her first jump. When I turned to the line myself, I saw that she was already at the second, so the first must have gone well. Then she was over it. It looked like Star was finally listening to her. 

I rode over the first jump and was counting strides to the second when the music turned off. Instead, the speakers broadcast Mr. Yamada’s voice. “1-A rider 1! To the starting gate!”

Fly snorted and tried to refuse the jump, but I dug my heels into her sides and made her cross it. It was sloppy, and we landed at an angle instead of a straight line, but we made it. 

I rode onto the outside rail behind the Gypsy Vanner mare, Anima, and her rider Koji Koda. After following them for a few paces, I turned in to stop beside Todoroki and Uraraka, who were standing between the jumps and the outside wall. 

“Iida’s going to keep warming up until his round,” Todoroki said. 

“Makes sense,” I said. I found my friend and his big grey Oldenburg cantering down the opposite side of the arena. 

“What do you guys want to do?” Uraraka asked. She had her feet out of the stirrups and was holding them out from the saddle, spinning them in circles. It kind of made Star look like some bizarre pegasus. 

“I guess I can take a break,” I said. She had the right idea, and I shifted the reins to one hand so that I could do some arm and core stretches.

“So, Midoriya, what kind of horse do you want when you win this thing?” she asked, brown eyes sparkling. 

“I’m not going to win,” I said. My eyes were following Zero around the arena, watching the powerful Thoroughbred stretch out into a canter. He and his rider were perfectly in tune. There was only one living creature Kacchan respected, and it was obvious in the way the two worked together. 

“There aren’t really winners or losers in qualifiers,” Todoroki said. “It’s just to determine our rankings going into the season.”

“I know,” Uraraka said, laughing. She stretched her arms out towards Star’s ears and looked from me to Todoroki. “Still, there’s a top placing.” She shifted her stance to stretch back to Star’s tail. 

“Excellent round from Yuga Aoyama! 1-A Rider 2, to the starting gate!” Mr. Yamada’s voice rang out. 

Pinky and her rider, Mina Ashido, trotted out the doors. Red Riot, a chestnut Selle Francais, whinnied after her, then bolted and threw his rider, Eijiro Kirishima, before he could react. 

Uraraka and I both gasped, and a couple of other riders had to pull their horses away to avoid a collision. Mezo Shoji managed to grab Riot’s reins as Kirishima picked himself up. Mr. Yagi limped across the arena to check on them. 

“Okay, back to the question,” Uraraka said once it was obvious that everyone was okay. “I don’t care what my horse looks like.” 

I looked back at my friends and dropped my stirrups to do leg stretches. 

Uraraka continued, “I definitely want one who knows how to listen.” She laughed and patted Star. “Sorry, boy. I also want it to be good on trail rides and stuff.” 

“I’ve never been on a trail ride,” Todoroki said. Both of us raised our eyebrows at that. Even I, rarely as I used to ride, had been on trails a few times. 

“Maybe,” I said slowly, unsure how they would react and not wanting to be disappointed, “We could go on one of the school trails tonight.”

“Yes!” Uraraka said. Star snorted and raised his head at her enthusiasm. “If my legs aren’t totally dead by then.” 

“Or maybe tomorrow?”

“Definitely!”

“Do you think Flame would like it?” Todoroki asked. 

I looked at his chestnut skewbald Thoroughbred, who had a habit of jumping paddock fences for entertainment. A trail ride might do him good, and help to keep him from getting too bored. “Yeah!”

“Let’s plan for tomorrow, then!” Uraraka said.


	3. Chapter 3

“Hey, that wraps up a great round by Koji Koda, wouldn’t you agree, folks?”

Mr. Yamada had gradually gotten more and more enthusiastic about his commentary. Now, I just wanted him to call my number so that I could go and ride out all the tension settling in me. I’d told myself not to overthink the round or the consequences if I failed, but I’d overthought anyways and was starting to feel nauseous. Fly snorted as I turned her to the door and the bright day beyond. 

“Rider number 11, come out to the starting gate!” 

I urged Fly forward. “Good luck!” Uraraka called from the door. 

“Riding isn’t about luck. It’s skill,” Todoroki said matter of factly. Uraraka laughed. 

I left them behind and crossed the lane that separated the barn from the dirt pen. Fences and a crowd blocked most of my view of the course, but I had walked it that morning and could still remember it. 

“Hey, kid.”

I quickly looked back at the barn. Mr. Yagi had come to stand by the door. He grinned and gave me a thumbs up. I gave him a shaky thumbs up in response, then rode on past the starting gate to enter the arena just as Koda was leaving. I nudged Fly’s sides and quietly asked her to trot, turning in a wide circle before we started, and working to ignore the crowd seated on bleachers beside the course. 

A student from the equine studies program stood next to the starting post, holding the flag that would signal the start of the timer. I took a deep breath and reminded myself to take my time gaining a canter, then gathering Fly’s stride length. Only once I felt ready, I turned her past the flag. We cleared the first set of rails without an issue and I found my line to the second. 

“Now we have the unassuming but clearly talented Izuku Midoriya in the ring,” Mr. Yamada said. 

He kept speaking, but I had to focus on the jump. Fly gathered and I moved into the two-point jumping position, suspending my body over the saddle. 

Our next jump was on a turn, and Fly wanted to curve as soon as I looked that way. I used my inside leg to push her out into a proper turn, found our line and crossed the double oxer that made up the jump. My hands came forward slightly to let my horse stretch over the obstacle. She flicked her ears back at me. 

“Good job,” I whispered. She snorted as I remembered to look for my path to the fourth jump. This one was a long line ahead of me and I focused on counting my strides. 

We took the jump, the highest yet, but I heard Fly’s back hooves clip the rail. I braced myself to hear it fall, but I didn’t. Still, as Mr. Yamada was saying, that was sloppy riding.

The next two jumps were set on a curve before ending in a straight line to number seven, the only water tray jump. I wasn’t too concerned - Fly never shied at water. I just needed to make sure we could get the distance over the trough. We did. 

Our final jump, a set of three planks, was set up so that I had to ride parallel to the crowd, ensuring that any potential sponsors got a good look at each rider. I drew in a deep breath and tried to ignore all the eyes on me. Fly must have sensed my nervousness because she lost a bit of speed. It was almost too late, but I urged her forward and over the jump. 

I exhaled, realizing that I’d been holding my breath, and found the arena exit while the crowd applauded gently. Hopefully, it had been enough. Now I just had to worry about the cross country event after lunch.


	4. Chapter 4

After we’d returned the horses to their stalls, Iida left to find his family. Todoroki, Uraraka and I joined the crowd heading towards the education center, where food trucks had arrived to take advantage of the busy event. I spotted Mom holding a picnic table near the parking lot and introduced my friends before she offered to bring our meals to us. 

“Really? Thank you so much. My legs are killing me,” Uraraka said, easing herself onto the bench. 

Todoroki nodded solemnly and sat beside her. I noticed Mom cast a look over his face, marked by a large burn scar over his left eye, but she didn’t say anything. 

“I’ll come with you!” I said. “What do you guys want?” 

We got in line for a burger truck, under the shade of a nearby tree. Standing just behind Mom, I noticed for the first time that I was taller than her. I’d only been living at school for a few weeks and didn’t think I had grown that much. Maybe I just hadn’t noticed it when I was at home. 

“Your jumping rounds were amazing, Izuku!” She said. “I don’t know how you manage it. I’d be so scared!”

“They weren’t that great,” I said, thinking of the rail I’d knocked and twining my fingers in and out of each other. 

“I didn’t notice any mistakes. I’m sure no one else did either.” 

“Hmm,” I said absentmindedly. 

“There must be pretty high stakes for you to be this nervous,” Mom said. We moved forward and left the shade. I took off my grey show jacket after just a few seconds in the hot sun. 

“There are,” I said. Then, reciting from the school handbook, I explained, “ ‘A part of U.A.'s commitment is to ensure that each graduate of the horsemanship program has the experience of owning at least one horse. Each year, donors provide horses to students who do not already have one in order to fulfil this requirement.’ That’s the point of the qualifiers, so sponsors can decide who they want to support and donate horses. If I don’t do well enough…”

Mom put a hand on my arm, “You’ll do fine, don’t worry.”

I didn’t want to bother her anymore, so I forced a smile and nodded. 

After eating, we joined Mr. Aizawa and the rest of the class to walk the course, then returned to the welcome shade of the barn to get ready.

Instead of staying in the barn arena to practice, we rode out to the even field beside the starting gate and waited to be called. Mr. Yamada’s enthusiasm from earlier hadn’t worn off, and Mrs. Kayama had to take over announcements after Kacchan’s start was accompanied by too much shouting. 

“Getting ready to start now we have rider 6, Tenya Iida!”

“I’ll see you at the end,” Iida said as he rode Gen to the starting gate. 

“Good luck!” Uraraka called. Todoroki sighed. 

We rode in a circle that took us past the start of the course so that we could watch Iida take the first obstacle. There was barely any crowd there and the blue sweatshirts of those present identified them as other students. A couple of them turned to watch us and chatted among themselves. I nibbled the inside of my lip anxiously. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Uraraka said. 

“You just need to ride for yourself, right?” Todoroki said, once again turning my own advice towards me. 

“Right,” I said. Although I still felt like my stomach was convulsing. There were so many things that could go wrong in cross country. Hitting a permanently affixed obstacle was a lot more dangerous than knocking a rail off a showjumping standard. 

“Now, we’ll have rider 11, Izuku Midoriya, to the gate.”

“See you at the end!” Uraraka said as I rode into the chute. 

Fly came to a stop when I tugged on the reins but fidgeted. I didn’t blame her. It had to be my nerves that were affecting her. 

The starter lowered the flag and I urged my horse forward. Fly began a bit reluctantly but reached the right speed just in time to take the first jump, which was designed to look like a long-ago fallen tree. Humid wind sprayed my face as we landed and the mare tried to bolt. I spoke to her and tugged the reins slightly to slow her back down to a mid-speed canter. Even so, the packed grass sped away under her hooves and we reached the second jump, which looked like a fence gate, in almost no time. 

The trail took us around a tree, though a real gate and into a wide field. Up ahead, I could see Anima and Koda, and ahead of them, a flash of chestnut hair before Riot and Kirishima were hidden behind some trees. But I couldn’t focus on them. The field had three jumps and various turns that came up fast. I talked to Fly through all of it, pleased to see her flicking her ears back and paying attention to my cues. 

Just before I passed another gate and entered the trees, I glanced back. Takeoff and Ojiro, and Sugarman, being ridden by Rikido Sato, were in the field, making good time. 

The next portion of the course wound through the woods at the foot of one of the mountains. There was a single log jump, then a triangular gate to cross to get to another stretch of field. I did my best to aim Fly over the narrowest part of the triangle. She stretched out and grunted. 

“Good girl!” 

Most of the onlookers were, understandably, positioned on both sides of the only water jump. I must have grown tense because Fly pulled her head up and started to slow down. 

“Let’s go!” I nudged my heels into her sides and we rode up to and over a hedge. The landing was lower than at the takeoff, and felt like free-falling for a moment before we splashed into the shallow pool. Fly tried to raise her head out of the splash zone, but I tugged the reins to bring her back down so that she could keep up her pace. 

The final obstacles took the shape of a stack of straw bales, another triangle, another gate and a final log. The wind rushing into my face was refreshing, keeping both Fly and me from getting too sweaty. And I found that I had enjoyed myself a lot. I was really riding for U.A., and even if I didn’t get a sponsorship and had to leave the school, at least I could say that I’d done this much. 

Fly and I passed into the cool-down pen, which was almost back where we’d started, only about 500 metres north. I leaned forward to pat her damp neck and said, “Good job.” 

“Excellent time,” Iida said, bringing Gen up to walk alongside us. 

“I hope so,” I said. We’d find out soon, and since I hadn’t been paying much attention to my timing, my nerves came back. “How did you do?” I asked my friend, hoping to distract myself. 

“No refusals and no hits. We’ll have to see what the final results were, though.” 

“So you made it out in one piece?” a voice behind me snarled. 

I turned to see Kacchan riding up to me. Zero snorted and nickered, but his rider looked far less friendly. 

“Uh, yeah,” I said. Now, all my nerves were coming in in scores by then. Fly skittered sideways in response. “Um, how’d you do?” 

“Better than you, obviously. I ain’t here just to have fun. I came to win,” Kacchan said with a sneer. “Hey, at least you can always count on finding work as a stableboy.” He turned Zero around then and rode off. 

“Well,” Iida said, his blue eyes wide. “That was uncalled for.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Let’s go watch the end of Todoroki and Uraraka’s rides, shall we?” 

“Sure.”

Away from the rest of the group, I was able to forget about Kacchan and enjoy watching Todoroki, Dark Shadow and his rider Fumikage Tokoyami, and the remainder of our classmates as they cleared the last jumps. A couple of horses refused the water jump on the first approach but took the second. Uraraka seemed to be having trouble keeping Star up to speed and wasn’t very far in front of Yaoyorozu. But she made it over every jump with room to spare, which would help her final numbers. 

At the cool down paddock, she kicked her stirrups away almost immediately and pulled them up to their storage positions. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go on a trail ride tonight,” she said breathlessly when the rest of us caught up to her. 

“Trail ride?” Iida asked. 

“We made plans to explore the trails today or tomorrow,” Todoroki said. 

“That’s an excellent idea. Although I agree with Uraraka, tomorrow would be best. We need to give our horses, and ourselves, the proper time to rest and not overexert.” 

“Exactly,” said Uraraka. She dismounted smoothly and pulled the reins over Star’s head to lead him to the barn. 

We entered the shade of the building just before a roll of thunder rang out overhead. Dark clouds were moving in from the bay. 

“Good thing we already decided on tomorrow,” Todoroki said.


	5. Chapter 5

It was after dinner when the rain began. I heard some pattering on the aluminum roof of the staff stable, where I was grooming One. Only a few seconds later, it became a steady rhythm. One For All flicked an ear towards the noise but was wise enough to not be fazed by it. 

“Looks like the second years will be riding on soft ground. More exciting for them,” said Mr. Yagi. My former coach and current teacher was leaning against the stall door. 

“I’m glad it didn’t rain today,” I said, as I brushed snarls out of One’s tail. 

“Well, you kids would have handled it fine, too.”

“Yeah…”

“What, you don’t think so?”

“What?” I realized that I’d hardly registered his words. I straightened up to see Mr. Yagi’s narrow face, sunken eyes and messy blond hair. “Sorry. I’m just distracted.” 

“Why? What are you thinking about?” 

I picked up One’s red tail and began brushing it out. “Well, I didn’t place very well today.” Our final standings had been given to us over dinner. I’d come in seventh place. It wasn’t horrible, especially not if this had been a regular show. But I wasn’t sure that any sponsors would choose to provide a horse for someone who wouldn’t have earned a ribbon if it had been. Besides that, I was concerned for Uraraka and our other five classmates who needed horses and had all placed lower. 

“Oh, that. It only matters for your standings coming into the season. You’ll have lots of time to make it up.” 

I looked up, confused. “But Mr. Aizawa told us that we needed to place well to get sponsored and that if we didn’t, then we wouldn’t get our own horses and we won’t be allowed to ride and will be expelled.”

“He said what? That man…” Mr. Yagi leaned back and slapped the top of the stall’s half door. One flicked an ear at him but didn’t turn away from her hay. “Listen, young Midoriya, all the people who came in today looking for someone to sponsor know that they’re looking at the best of the best future equestrians. There’s a reason our entry requirements are so high. It doesn’t matter where you place, since you’ve all already proven yourselves just by getting in. No, they’re looking at other things - how you conduct yourself, how you react to difficulties, how well you understand horses. And even if you don’t find sponsors, U.A. still wants to keep you around. We let students continue to lease school horses if they can’t afford their own. Aizawa was pulling your leg.”

I gaped until One swatted my open mouth with her tail and I got a taste of horsehair. Mr. Yagi laughed as I sputtered and coughed to try and get the dusty, oily taste out of my mouth. 

“Make sure you tell your classmates. If they’re half as worried as you, I don’t think they’ll get much sleep otherwise.”

“So you’re sure?” I asked. “Uh, not that I doubt that you are, it’s just a lot to process. And a big relief. I’ll make sure to tell Uraraka and everyone. Mom, too. So she doesn’t need to worry. Thank you very much, sir, for telling me!”

“No problem. Now, let’s get One outside.” 

“Does she need a blanket?” I asked. The rain was still hammering the roof. 

“No, she doesn’t mind the rain. It’s not going to hurt her.” My teacher passed me a lead rope. I clipped it to One’s halter and led her out the stall door that he slid open. “Should have brought a jacket for myself, though.” 

I was only in the school training uniform, a hoodless blue sweatshirt with the letters U and A inscribed across the shoulders and down the front. It might keep me warm, but I’d still get wet. Thankfully, the rain sounded worse than it was. We walked through a drizzle to the pasture that sloped down a foothill. One let out a nicker as we approached and received a shrill whinny in reply. Just after I’d led her through the pasture gate, Mr. Yagi’s black mare, Float, trotted up the hill. The two mares stopped to smell each other’s breath, confirming their identities before walking off to their shelter. 

Mr. Yagi and I hurried back to the barn for cleanup. “Don’t worry about today. You did everything right - everyone hits a rail now and then, especially when they’re nervous, but otherwise, your competition was fantastic. I’ll talk to Aizawa about his ‘encouragement’.” He made quotation marks in the air to emphasize his point. 

I nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“No need to be formal around me, kid. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


	6. Chapter 6

After a day of watching the second years run their qualifiers and discussing what we saw with Aizawa for class credit, all twenty of us assembled at the barn for a non-official ride. Word had gotten out quickly about our trail ride plans and everyone had wanted to come. Even Kacchan, though I didn’t know why. 

I got Fly and mounted just outside the barn, then stood with Uraraka and Todoroki beside a paddock. Iida had left Gen’s reins in my hands as he hurried around the stables, reminding everyone of the rules Mr. Aizawa had given us when we’d asked for permission to use the trails. 

“Do you think Flame will like this?” Uraraka asked. 

“I hope so,” said Todoroki. 

“What about you?” I asked. All four horses flicked their ears to follow the conversation. 

“I think so.” 

Music started behind us, startling me more than it did Firefly. I turned around to see some of the other girls leaving the stable. Kyoka Jiro had strapped a wireless speaker behind the cantle of Earphone Jack’s saddle, from which the music was coming. The dark brown gelding was nodding his head to the beat. 

“Aww, that’s so cute!” Uraraka said. “Hey, Jiro, good idea!”

Jiro gave Uraraka a smile, then mounted. 

“Hurry up, everyone!” Iida yelled, marching past the inside of the wide barn door. “We need to leave on time if we are to watch the sunset as everyone wants.” 

“Yeah!” Hagakure leaned forward in her saddle. “We’ll miss the best photo ops if y’all don’t get out here!”

“Okay, we’re coming!” Kirishima called back. He left the barn and led Riot to the mounting block. 

“If you’re so worried about your stupid pictures, you could always just go,” Kacchan said as he emerged. 

“Mr. Aizawa specifically said that we must stay together! Yaoyorozu, would you mind bringing up the rear of the line?” Iida asked. 

“Of course not,” she said from astride her piebald Thoroughbred. 

“Thank you,” Iida said. He came up to me and collected Ingenium’s reins. 

“We’re all set?” Uraraka asked. 

“Yes. Thank you, Midoriya.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He walked back to the mounting block, then rejoined us once he was astride Gen. We set out as a group, most of us walking abreast down the lane. It was a warm, clear evening and the horses’ hooves clipping the dirt made for a relaxing ride. Especially so knowing that there was no way anyone of us would be expelled for failing to get a sponsorship. When I’d told the other students yesterday, we’d all breathed a sigh of relief. Kaminari and Hagakure had then wanted to have a party to celebrate, but most of us had been too tired to stay up. A quiet trail ride seemed like a much better way to celebrate, anyway. 

“Hey, Prez! Want to pick up the pace a bit?” Kaminari yelled from behind us. I was pretty sure that I heard Jiro say, “Can’t you even try to be respectful?” 

Unfazed, Iida replied, “Once we reach the trailhead, those who wish to canter may do so. Those who don’t will need to keep to the right of the path.”

“Sounds great!”

It wasn’t long before we turned off the lane onto a gravel path, between a pasture and a field planted with alfalfa. Once there, Iida cued Gen into a smooth canter. Todoroki followed, but Uraraka said, “I’m not sure I have that in me.”

“I can stay back with you,” I said. 

“If you want to gallop, you should!”

“No, I don’t mind.” 

I turned Fly to the right, following the pasture fence just ahead of Star and Uraraka. Most of the rest of the class cantered past, laughing and yelling and quickly reaching the tree-covered hill ahead. It wasn’t long before it was just us, Koda, Asui and Yaoyorozu. 

Two upperclassmen rode past us, and the one in front, on a palomino grinned and said, “Hey, first years! Out to watch the sunset?” 

“Yeah!” Uraraka told him. 

“It’s totally worth it. Have a good evening!” 

“You too!” We called as he and his quiet companion, on a raindrop Appaloosa, carried on past us. 

“I think they were third-years,” Asui said. 

“Really? They must not be too concerned about their qualifiers tomorrow,” said Yaoyorozu. 

“Maybe they’re just riding to relax. It’s no different then what we’re doing.” 

“I can see where it would be beneficial.” 

We rode under cover of the trees and I shivered at the abrupt temperature drop. It was already almost dark as night in the forest, but the trail was a light grey and visible against the underbrush. We were able to easily follow it as it formed switchbacks up the incline. At the hill’s crest, we could just see the beach through the trees and beyond it, the sun almost on the horizon, turning the clouds orange and pink. 

“Oh, wow! I had no idea this was so close!” Uraraka said. 

“We’ll have to come here again,” said Asui. 

“According to the map, at low tide, you can follow the beach to a second trail that loops around the mountain and back to campus. It’s long but would make a good weekend ride,” said Yaoyorozu. 

“Yeah,” I said. 

“That sounds amazing!” said Uraraka. “And we’ll all be riding our own horses by then!”

It was as if she had read my thoughts. I grinned. 

We spent the next half hour on the beach, racing up and down the sand and taking our horses as far into the water as they would happily go. A couple of people tried to stand up on their mount’s backs, but Iida reminded us all that Mr. Aizawa had threatened punishment if we did anything that hurt ourselves or our horses. 

Shoji had brought binoculars and we could watch seabirds and seals out in the bay through them. At one point, a small herd of deer stepped out of the trees to graze on the seagrass. A few guys dared each other to eat nori directly off the rocks at the tideline - until Iida caught them. And of course, a lot of people took sunset pictures when the sky was at its most colourful. 

We rode back over the hill in the dark, with the sounds of the waves pushing the tide in behind us. Normally, being in such a dark forest would have made me nervous, but I guess having all my friends around to talk to, combined with the knowledge that I’d definitely be riding for U.A. all summer, made me feel comfortable.


	7. Chapter 7

On our first day back to regular lessons, Mr. Aizawa stepped into the barn aisle while we were all tacking up. “Everyone out where I can see you,” he said. 

I had already come out to grab my saddle off the rack, but there was a shuffle of feet and scraping of stall doors as all twenty of us emerged. Once we had, Mr. Aizawa said, “The school has matched each of you with a suitable sponsor. You did better than the average in previous years. See you in the arena in five minutes.” Then he turned and walked to where the arena met the barn aisle. 

I said nothing for a minute. It was better than I’d hoped, to even get a sponsorship. Then Uraraka grabbed my arm. “We did it, Midoriya!”

I heard Denki Kaminari yell, “Yes!” and saw Toru Hagakure jump into the air with excitement. 

“Shinso, we’re getting our horses!” Uraraka said to the purple-haired boy behind us. 

“Hmm,” he said. 

I was too excited to notice him much. I was still trying to convince myself of what our teacher had just said. I was getting a horse.


	8. At Torino Ranch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first year students of U.A. head out to spend a weekend with the equestrians who've agreed to sponsor their season. Midoriya isn't sure what to expect from Torino Ranch, deep in the forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a favour to ask. 
> 
> This part was originally made to be a story of it's own, second part in a series. Then I decided that keeping everything together under one link is better, so I went with that. However, instead of splitting it up into many small parts, as in the last seven part, I kept this one all together. 
> 
> What do you prefer? Many short chapters or fewer long chapters? Your answers will help me decide how to format future parts. Thank you!
> 
> -Whisp

“Well, this is it,” the cab driver said. It sounded like he was trying to convince both of us, as he leaned forward to look at the old wooden gate over. 

“Yeah,” I said. Nailed to the top of the square structure was a plank with words, TORINO RANCH, burnt into it. It couldn’t be anyplace else. 

The grass infested drive beyond wound into the dense spruce forest, though, blocking whatever equestrian facility existed on the property. 

“So are you getting out or coming back with me?” the driver asked sarcastically. 

“Oh, sorry!” I said. Hugging my backpack to my chest and grabbing the bag my boots were in, I opened the door and got out. The cab drove off almost immediately, leaving me feeling very isolated. There wasn’t even another driveway visible in either direction. I’d never been this far from an urban center and it was unnerving. 

There was only one thing to do, so I unlatched the creaky gate and made my way over the bars of the cattle guard. Mr. Torino must not be taking any chance on anything getting out. Or in. It was nothing like I’d expected to find a retired equestrian, trainer, breeder and U.A. teacher living.

The trees pressed right into the barbed wire fence on either side of the road, making a claustrophobic effect even in the open air. The cloudless sky looked very far away. 

I walked on, up a slight slope, thankful for the bit of exercise after an early morning that began by rushing onto the bus and was followed by an hour on the train and another by taxi. Even so, it was far less peaceful than a jog at campus was. Anything could be hiding in the dark forest undergrowth. 

Something snorted to my right and I looked to see four dark, solid shapes moving among the trees. I gasped, then sprinted up the drive and around the next curve, 

Something else barreled through the overgrown grass and into the ditch and I stumbled backwards with a shout. A moment later, an angry and familiar chattering came from a tree overhead. It had only been a squirrel. And up ahead, well within sight, was a clearing with a visible corral. 

I made my way into the clearing, where the road branched. One path continued straight and turned behind a row of spruce trees. A yellow house was just visible behind them. 

The right branch passed a corral, a rusty horse trailer and a burn pile, then curved past a quonset, a hay shed and an old car before rejoining the main path. There were no horses, no arena and almost nothing that looked like the stables and riding centers around U.A. Maybe I had come to the wrong Torino Ranch, after all. 

“Hey, who’s out there? Come and help me!”

I spun around, looking for the source of the voice. 

“The barn, you idiot!” It came from the quonset. Afraid that I’d wandered into some strangers home, I hurried over to explain and peered into the dark interior. In the center of the dirt floor, a man with silver hair and beard was sprawled on his stomach. 

“Are you alright?” I ran over and helped him up. At full height, he was just up to my chin. “Should I call someone? What -”

“Good luck with that, there’s barely coverage here. Just help me over to that trunk,” he said in a gravelly voice, pointing with a surprisingly steady finger. “Then go get me my cane.” 

“Okay! Yes, sir!” I helped him hobble to a tack trunk near the door. When I returned for the man’s cane, I could see that the front half of the building housed a tractor and a scattered collection of horse and farm equipment. There were cabinets, shelves and saddle trees on the arched walls, but the only things properly put away were the tack sets. Further back were eight stalls in two rows. At least I seemed to be in the right place. 

“Hey, what’s taking so long?”

“I’m sorry!” I said, running back to the man. He took the cane and leaned forward, eyeing me. 

“So you like to announce your arrival by hollerin’, do ya?”

“No, sir, it was an accident, there was a squirrel - um, I’m Izuku Midoriya - “

“I know who you are,” he said, glaring at me. 

“Um, are you Mr. Torino?” I asked, trying not to fidget or step back. He nodded. 

“Um, thank you for offering to sponsor me for the upcoming season -”

“Uh huh. Let’s get you settled, then,” he said nonchalantly, sitting up. 

\-----

The house was small and looked like it could use some maintenance. There was an old truck in the carport, from under which a brown dog emerged and ran up with his tail wagging. It launched its front paws up to my shoulders, nearly pushing me over. 

“Down, Skip. Just shove ‘m off,” said Mr. Torino. 

Bracing my legs, I gently pushed the dog back to all fours. He cocked his head, making his one lopsided ear flop upside down while the other remained pricked. I wasn’t great with dog breeds, but he looked like some kind of mutt, entirely unlike the purebreds some teachers kept at U.A. He stayed outside as we went in. 

The front room contained a kitchen, dining and living area with a picture window overlooking a treed valley and distant mountains. There was an office, which Mr. Torino told me included a phone and computer I could use, a bathroom and two bedrooms. 

“You eaten?” Mr. Torino asked as he showed me my room. 

“I had lunch on the train.”

“Alright. Settle in then get down to the barn.” 

“Will I need my riding clothes?”

“What for?”

“Um, I . . . don’t you need to see me ride?”

“I saw that last week at U.A. I have other plans now.” Mr. Torino stomped off down the hall, then out the door with a bang. 

Had I angered him somehow? I’d need to watch what I said from then on. 

The old bed creaked from the slight weight of my backpack. I took a moment to check my phone. There was partial wifi, but no new messages. It was the middle of the day on a Friday, so Mom and Mr. Yagi must be busy. As for my classmates, they were likely just getting to know their sponsors, too. I left the device in the room and headed out. 

Skip leaped in circles around me as we walked out to meet Mr. Torino beside the barn, looking over a selection of old fence boards leaning on the corrugated metal. Not wanting to startle him again, I said, “Excuse me,” as we walked up. 

“Excuse you fer what? Alright, you know what a corral and hay shed are for, I hope. The lean-to behind is for grain.” Mr. Torino hobbled back along the barn, over a path worn down by years of use. Barbed wire fencing began on our left, carving out a triangular patch of pasture and vanishing into the trees. 

“Neighbour runs cattle out there. Ignore it.” We reached the end of the barn and some wood fencing which enclosed the wide space behind it. Electric fencing separated it into two portions, a large one that ran deep into the trees and a narrower section in which two horses grazed. I grinned. 

The horses saw us and ambled over, heads and tails swinging, to lean across the fence. I reached forward to let the roan sniff my hand. 

“Ichigo,” Mr. Torino said. “The bay is Saint.” 

Maybe one of them was meant to be mine, but I didn’t push my luck and ask. 

Ichigo leaned in closer and snorted warm air at my face.

“Blow back and he’ll remember your scent forever,” said Mr. Torino. 

“Really?” I asked. I’d seen horses do just that many times but never knew its purpose. Mr. Torino nodded, so I tried. Ichigo lowered his eyelids, inhaled, then reached forward to snuffle my hair. 

“It only looks like grass, you dummy,” Mr. Torino said, as I pushed the horse off. Saint came over to take his place, putting his nose up to my face and exhaling slowly. I responded in the same way then waited as Saint stood there, his nose nearly pressed to mine. 

“Contemplative horse, that one,” Mr. Torino said. “Hurry up, into the barn.” 

I followed him inside, blinking in the sudden change in brightness. Skip ran past us into a stall, and I could hear him digging in the straw. 

“So,” Mr. Torino said. “Here’s the deal. You clean up my barn, show me you’re willing to work. Then, I give you a horse and you be on your way.” 

“Really?” That couldn’t be all. I’d heard that most sponsors leased students a horse for a season, to see if they made a good team. If they did, the owner offered the horse to the rider, usually for a price that came out of the season’s winnings. It sounded like Mr. Torino was just giving me a free horse. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite understand.” 

“What’s so hard? You need a horse, I need a clean barn. Unless you’d rather just buy some random nag.” 

“No, I, uh, thank you very much, sir!”

“Course if ya don’t do him justice, I’ll want him back.”

“Yes, of course!”

“Good. The stalls need mucking and the front needs organizing. Come ‘cross anything broken and it goes in the burn pile. I’m goin’ into town to find some dinner.” 

“Yes, sir!” 

\-----

A horse whinnied sharply. It had been a couple of hours and the sun was starting to sink behind the barn, casting long shadows all the way to where I was dropping cracked buckets and rotting wood in the burn pile. The stalls had all been mucked and I’d sorted as much as I could in the barn. There was no sign of Mr. Torino’s return, but it couldn’t hurt to take a break and visit the horses. 

“Hey Ichigo. Hey, Saint. What’s wrong?” I asked as I walked along the right side of the barn. The trees closed in there, but I was already feeling more comfortable near them. I stepped out behind the barn and saw, to my surprise, four horses standing behind the electric fence, all in a row, watching me. 

The chestnut mare furthest from me whinnied again, but I ignored her. I couldn’t stop staring at the gelding pacing the fence closer to me. His dapple grey coat and athletic frame looked so much like Ground Zero’s that I thought, for a second, that they were the same horse. But after a moment, it became clear that this horse was fatter, or maybe he just looked that way because of the thick winter coat in contrast to Zero’s sleek one. He had a star and snip instead of a stripe, too. Even so, the two could be brothers. 

The gelding snorted at me and continued to pace, the shoes on his hooves flashing. All of the horses had long, shaggy coats and thick, tangled manes as if they’d lived wild. The indication of domesticity was surprising, but the three with him had trimmed, well tended hooves, too. 

Four horses in a pasture that, based on the line of the fence, ran along the road. “You’re the ones who scared me!” I said, laughing. The mare and a flea-bitten grey companion snorted at the sound. I walked around to meet them by the other fence. Ichigo and Saint joined them as best they could around the wire. The mare, however, arched her neck and pinned her ears, scaring everybody away before she greeted me. Only when she was done did she allow the others to push through and nicker and stretch out to sniff every part of me. They didn’t lose interest until we heard the truck coming up the drive, motor sputtering. Then all six animals raised their heads. The mare whinnied again. 

“Hush, Sakura!” Mr. Torino yelled. Skip emerged from the stall and stretched. I said goodbye to the horses and walked out to meet their owner. 

Mr. Torino had parked just in front of the barn and was looking around the inside. “It’s a start,” he said. “Now I need ya to go get some hay and put it out in three stalls. Hurry up!”

“Yes, sir!”

After I did, I brought Ichigo, Saint and a second bay into the barn, threw hay into Sakura and the grey’s and finally had some of the frozen dinner Mr. Torino had brought from town. When we were done, I lunged Ichigo and Saint in the yard while Mr. Torino worked on training the bay. It reminded me of volunteering as a stable hand, before I’d had a hope of getting to U.A. 

When I turned the horses out, the rest of them had vanished into the trees. While Ichigo and Saint were happy in their small pasture, the bay whinnied and took off into the dark forest. It was pitch black by the time I got back to the house. The nights on campus never got that dark. 

Mr. Torino was already in his room, door closed, but I had a few more things to do before turning in. 

I stepped into the small office, made smaller by the amount of clutter in it. The wooden chair creaked as I sat down and looked around for a phone. It was laying in a cradle near the computer and monitor, neither of which looked as old as the rest of the room. If not for that, I would have felt like I’d stepped back in time. 

I lifted the phone, fumbled with the cord for a moment, then called Mom. 

“Hello, Inko Midoriya.”

“Hey, Mom.”

“Izuku!” She said joyfully. “I was getting worried when you didn’t call but I kept telling myself, just wait a few more minutes. Have you been busy?”

“Yeah. There’s no service out here and I’d been outside pretty much since I got here.” 

“No service? Where on earth are you?”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Torino is nice!” I said. Even if he was a little gruff. 

“And who else if out there?”

“Just him,” I described the bizarre little ranch and horses as Mom continuously said, “Uh huh,” intently. 

I stood up and stretched, bringing the phone with me as far as I could to explore the room as I talked. The window over the computer overlooked the valley, and I could see tiny lights from homes deep in the trees. At least Torino Ranch wasn’t totally isolated. 

I ignored Mr. Torino’s paperwork but looked over bookcases, mostly filled with stuff about horse-whispering, genetics, different breeds and studbooks. It wasn’t unlike my own. There were ribbons, too, all over the walls and furniture, and framed photographs. One, dated by it’s grainy colour saturation, showed a young man riding a shiny brown gelding into a water obstacle. The plaque on the lower frame read, “Sorahiko Torino and Jetstream”. I should have looked into my sponsor before I’d come, but I’d been busy and distracted, so stuff like this was new to me. 

A photo on the desk was clearly regarded with special affection, based on the cleared space around it and the fact that it was totally clear of dust. But what caught my eye was the young chestnut mare in the center, One For All. 

“Izuku? Are you okay?” Mom asked. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” I’d forgotten that I was on the phone.

“You must be tired. Sleep well, I love you, and I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“Alright, I love you too, Mom. Bye.”

I dialed Mr. Yagi’s number while still looking at the photo. He was in it, younger and straighter and healthier looking but with the same wide smile and messy blond hair. Next to him was a younger Mr. Torino, still silver haired, but much taller, sturdier and less wrinkled. On One’s other side stood a woman, not much shorter than Mr. Yagi, impressively, with black hair and a beaming grin of her own. 

“Hello?” Mr. Yagi said. 

“Hi, Mr. Yagi. I -”

“Young Midoriya! How are you? How are you finding the ranch?” 

“It’s not quite what I expected,” I admitted. 

“No, of course not. Torino likes his retirement and keeping things unassuming, that’s for sure.” 

“Um, are you two friends?”

“Well, sure. He was my teacher, you know. Then he helped me get a start in the professional world. I kept my herd up there a while, too. Speaking of, how’s the colt?” 

“Huh?” I was having a hard time picturing One, All Might and Mr. Yagi’s other horses in the little stable. 

“Oh, shoot, did I spoil it? Or was I wrong?” 

“Well, I, um, haven’t seen any colts yet, just geldings and one mare. And I don’t know which one will be mine, yet. I think I’m supposed to finish cleaning the barn first.” 

“What? What’s he doing to you up there?”

I explained, glad to be talking to my mentor. 

“Still no cell coverage, huh? Couldn’t he at least get wifi in the barn?” Mr. Yagi said when I was done. It sounded like he was talking to himself. 

“Mr. Yagi,” I said. 

“Just Yagi is fine between you and me, kid,” he said. 

“Yagi, sir.” I just couldn’t refer to my hero so informally. 

“Oh, brother.” 

“There’s a photo here, of you, One and Mr. Torino and a woman. I was just curious, who is she?”

“Dark hair, right? Tall, beauty mark on her chin.”

“I can’t tell about the beauty mark, but yeah.” 

“Nana Shimura,” he said. “My other mentor. Sort of a personal trainer. She was the one who scouted me before U.A. and introduced me to Torino. A great equestrian on her own - went to the Olympics and everything. You’ve never heard of her?”

I recognized the name, from a couple of record lists. “I have. I just don’t know much about her. Wait - oh, um…”

“She’s dead,” Mr. Yagi said for me. 

“I read about that,” I said. Even though she’d been killed in a riding accident before I was born, I’d seen old articles about it. “I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, it was a long time ago. I’m just glad I get to pass her legacy on to you. Float is the daughter of her stallion, by the way,” he said, referring to his black Andalusian mare. 

We talked a few minutes more, then I went to bed, too tired for anything else. Just as I was turning in, I felt a sudden surge of loneliness. The feeling wasn’t new but it felt different that time. For once in a long time, I actually missed someone, other than my father. Actually I missed several people. I looked out at the stars outside my window and wondered how Uraraka, Iida and Todoroki were doing. 

\-----

There were 59 unread messages when I checked my phone in the morning. I stared at the little number for a moment. Then I began to read. 

Most of the messages came from Uraraka, unsurprisingly. Iida and Todoroki had been on the group chat, too and all three were concerned that I hadn’t responded yet. I explained the wifi situation as tears welled up while I realized that they’d missed me as much as I did them. I’d never felt that before. 

Uraraka already had a horse and contract worked out. It was a stunning bay blanket Appaloosa gelding, named Antigravity. 

Both Iida and Uraraka had sent pictures and descriptions of other horses, the stables they were at and their new sponsors. All that Todoroki had said of his sponsor’s place, a farm a couple of hours north of U.A. was “It’s nice.” and “The horses are friendly”. Then he and Iida had talked about how Flame and Gen, left behind for the weekend, were doing. I congratulated Uraraka on her horse and went to the other messages. 

The three names I saw first were Kaminari, Ashido and Koda. I didn’t even know any of them that well and the realization that three near strangers actually went to the effort to text me sent me into full out tears. 

Something hard banged on the door and Mr. Torino said, “Quit that racket and get up. We have work to do!” I’d have to read those messages while I got ready. Mr. Torino saw me run from my bedroom to the bathroom, phone in hand and grumbled, “Kids these days.”

Koda, who was the one person in the class more interested then I was in horse behaviour and whispering, wanted to see how I was and what the horses at Torino Ranch were like. Kaminari sent a selfie next to a palomino with a lightning-bolt shaped stripe and the caption, “like my new ride” Ashido, when I finally reached her original message, said, “ya, team! I though a GC would be good,” followed by a thumbs up emoji. 

“Ya so excited!” Uraraka replied. They’d texted back and forth for a while, mostly in emojis, and shared photos from their sponsors. At the end of the chain of texts a note said, “Seen by Ashido, Shinso and 1 other.”

I didn’t understand what it all meant until I checked my email. There was a new one from Aizawa with the subject line, “Training Teams”. I scrolled through it while Uraraka texted a new collection of pictures. I found my name under “Team D” when Todoroki replied, “How are you taking so many pictures?” 

“On my phone :P” Uraraka responded.

Under my name the list included Mina Ashido, Hitoshi Shinso and Ochako Uraraka. I’d been so caught up on simply not failing the qualifiers that I’d forgotten all about how my placement would affect my team for the summer. These were the people I’d be training with and, in a few cases, competing alongside instead of against during the summer. I’d only exchanged about five words with Shinso but I knew I’d get along with Uraraka, and Ashido seemed friendly and easygoing. Working with all of them should be fun. 

“Aren’t you busy?” Todoroki asked. I opened the group chat. 

“Not to much to not take pictures What have you been up to”

“Riding.”

“Sene pictures!!!”

“Maybe.”

“Hey midoriya” Uraraka texted. 

“Hi” 

“You need to send pictures to I want to see your horse” She added a couple of horse emojis. 

“When I find out, I’ll show you.” 

“What they didn’t tell you first thing”

Mr. Torino suddenly yelled, “You plan on missing breakfast?”

“Sorry, sir, I’ll be right out!” I said. Then I texted, “GTG, sorry” and hurried out of the room. 

\-----

Ichigo, Saint, the bay and the dapple grey were fed in the barn, which made me wonder if one of them was meant to be my horse. All except for the bay were shod and all of them were friendly and used to being groomed and petted, so it would make sense. Ichigo and Saint looked more fit and Ichigo already had his summer coat, just like a show horse. I didn’t want to assume, but maybe. 

Mr. Torino worked with the bay in the corral while I organized the barn. All the horse stuff - tack, blankets, medicine, brushes and so on - went to the side where the saddle trees were fastened to the walls. The rest of it I piled or leaned against the walls beside the tractor. It was long, hot work with Skip getting underfoot, Sakura whinnying from the pasture and the other horses watching intently. 

As I worked, a man came in, introduced himself as Saint’s owner and the one who ran cattle on the ranch, and rode the horse out to check on them. Shortly after, a woman appeared, introduced herself as Ichigo’s owner and rode off into the trees at the end of the lane. I looked at the grey, who was resting his chin on the stall door and dozing. It was him or the bay. It had to be. 

After I took a break for lunch, Mr. Torino said, “How much is left?”

“Huh? The barn? Not much?” There hadn’t been a lot left after I’d removed all that was broken and I’d found lots of places to put the rest. 

“Eh, what was that?”

“Only a little bit, sir!”

“Think you can finish this evening?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. We’ll spend the afternoon riding, then. That grey needs to remember what a saddle feels like. Go get him ready.”

“Okay,” I said. “Um, excuse me for asking, is -”

“If it works outs, he’s your horse. Now quit dawdling and git.” 

I beamed all the way to the stable and teared up a little. There was my horse, watching as I entered the barn and grabbed a grooming kit. He turned his head to watch while I curried his dusty winter coat as much as I could, and lifted his hooves without protest. He lost his balance trying to watch me pick one of his forehoofs and tipped sideways before recovering so I had to push his head away every time he tried again. But I was able to finish. He was a bit skeptical of the girth, exhaling unhappily as I tightened it and it took some time before he remembered how to open his teeth for the bit. He didn’t fight it once it was in, though, just turned in circles trying to sniff the saddle. 

“You have been ridden before, right?” I said as I adjusted the stirrups. Mr. Torino would be crazy to expect me to compete on a green horse, wouldn’t he? At least the grey had accepted the tack. “I wonder what your name is, anyway.” I took the reins and led him out of the barn. 

Mr. Torino watched silently as I mounted, which made the grey flick his ears back and swish his tail. “You’re okay, it’s just me,” I said. He turned his dark head to look at me, probably surprised to see me above him.

“Warm up and give me a trot when you’re ready,” Mr. Torino said.

“Yes, sir.” 

The grey was reluctant to respond to most cues and I had to combine as many as possible to remind him what they all meant. “Good boy,” I whispered when he did things like turn in a circle or stop on command. After a few laps of the yard, he was beginning to catch on so I pushed into his sides and clicked until he sped up.

At first, he took off and then settled into a rolling trot that I could follow as easily as if I’d been riding him for years. 

“How’s he feel?”

“Good. Familiar, somehow.”

“That so?”

I eventually worked the horse up to a canter that I recognized the same way. But I hadn’t ever met this horse before, had I?

“Still familiar?”

“Yes.”

“Any idea why?”

I thought about the horse’s similarity to Zero. I hadn’t ridden that horse in years, since Kacchan’s mother stopped coming to the stables and making him share his horse. Maybe I remembered more than I thought. “My friend’s horse looks just like him. Maybe they’re related?” 

“Could be. Anything else?”

I ran through every other horse I’d ever ridden, before and after U.A. “One For All,” I realized. The gelding’s smooth, forward pace was a match for hers. 

“What was that?”

He feels like One For All,” I said. 

“Well, that’s her son yer on.”

“What?” I squeaked. The grey came to a dead halt, flinging me forward. I shoved my hand into his thick mane and pushed myself back to the seat. “Really?” 

“Did I ask you to stop?”

“Oh,” I urged the horse back into a canter. He rolled an ear my way, annoyed. 

“Toshinori brought her out to foal and asked me to keep him after he was weaned. Never fully explained what happened. Not like he’s a mutt - his sire is Start From Nothing.”

“That makes him Zero’s brother!” I said. “Oh, sorry, excuse me.”

Mr. Torino raised an eyebrow but continued. “Must’ve been in some mood when he registered him as All For Nothing. I’ve been calling him Deku, though.”

“What does that mean?” I asked. Deku nickered at the sound of his name. 

Mr. Torino shrugged and changed the topic. “Toshinori gave him to me just before he stopped riding. I’ve no use for him. A horse of his lineage shouldn’t be getting lazy in a pasture.”

I stared, not believing that Mr. Torino would just give me a horse like that. 

“Shut yer mouth ‘for a fly goes in. Come on.”

I slowed Deku to a walk and followed Mr. Torino down the same path Ichigo’s rider had taken. It was just wide enough for an ATV, but well packed and the grass at the edges had been trimmed. As we walked, the sun and shadows making shapes on Deku’s coat, I patted him slowly. Everything felt surreal. 

We emerged into a wide, carefully maintained clearing with the sun beaming down on green grass and small, crude cross country obstacles. Most of them looked like they’d been built out of trees, as if they’d just fallen right there. They formed a mini course, weaving around clumps of foliage or curving into the woods. Ichigo and his rider were just leaving, the rider waving on her way out. 

“Well, go ahead,” Mr. Torino said. 

I rode Deku in wide circles until he reached a canter, then I aimed him towards the jump closest to the trailhead. He burst into a wild gallop and I had to pull hard on the left rein, digging my right leg into his side to turn him away and calm him down. A jump at that speed would be disastrous. My hopes fell. I wouldn’t be able to ride him through the summer this way. 

Mr. Torino watched silently as we repeated the performance. On the third try, I rode Deku up at a walk and made him stop just before the jump. “Just stay calm, and we’ll get over it.”

His muscles twitched and he pinned his ears in annoyance until I tugged the reins and said, “Behave.” I could feel how badly every muscle in his body wanted to jump, the same way Flame felt. The difference was that Todoroki’s horse was disciplined. Deku had to get to that level, and fast. 

“I understand,” I said. “I want to jump it, too. I waited a long time to have the chance, just like you.” I whispered to the horse, not looking at Mr. Torino. “We just need to do it right. Okay?” 

Deku pawed the ground. I rode him all around the course, taking in every jump, working out some of the energy in his system. When we turned back to our jump, I took breaths to calm my whole body and sat the trot as long as I could, using my weight along with the reins to hold him back. He didn’t like it, but he got to the jump calmly. Then I let him go. 

He exploded. We soared over the jump too high, hit the wrong lead on the landing, and I was launched almost over his head. I jammed my heels down and grabbed two fistfuls of mane. But I still said, “Good job.” as we calmed down. 

Mr. Torino nodded from the sides. 

We spent the rest of the afternoon working, getting Deku to be patient on the approach and keep his pace on the landing instead of speeding up. It took a long time, working on one little thing before the next, but by the end we could do a full pattern at a trot. With a bit more work, hopefully at U.A. with Mr. Yagi’s help, I was sure we could canter a course by the time the season began. 

I put my horse away as the sun set, letting him go spend one more night with his herd. Sakura sniffed him all over like a concerned mother before they all wove away into the trees. 

I finished my work in the barn while Mr. Torino heated up another dinner. Mom wouldn’t be happy with how I’d been fed, but I couldn’t care less. 

Usually, sponsors received some sort of promotion through their riders - logos on saddle blankets or helmets. Mr. Torino didn’t want that but U.A. required it so he dug out an old fly sheet with his name on it. “From back when I actually was part of the equestrian world,” he said without emotion. 

We loaded it, and a set of tack, into the separated front of the horse trailer. We put a haynet in the back, then went inside to fill out the sponsorship forms from U.A. and the lease for All For Nothing. I cried a little as I read his pedigree. Sire: Start From Nothing. Dam: One For All. Breed: Thoroughbred. And so on. It was all real. 

I’d forgotten to take pictures for Uraraka. When I checked my phone, Todoroki had sent a few photos from his weekend, with the caption, “Are these good?”

“Ya it looks so pretty there you are T” Uraraka texted 

“It looks just like U.A.” 

“Nuu its greener And its not in the mountains

Hey M got horse pics?” 

“I’ll take some tomorrow” I said. 

“So you has a horse now” Uraraka said. 

“Yeah. Deku. He’s a 15.3 hh dapple grey Thoroughbred.” 

“Awesome I can’t wait to see him!”

“Have you jumped on him yet?” Iida joined the conversation. 

“Yeah. He liked to bolt at jumps though. I think he loves it as much as Flame.” 

“You’ll be able to fix that,” Todoroki said. 

“Yes, it’s amazing how well you’re able to solve any problems a horse has.” 

“Thanks guys,” I said. It didn’t feel like I really did much, but I had gotten Flame to stop jumping paddock fences and helped Todoroki and Iida develop better relationships with their horses. Although the last two had been problems with the riders. 

“You guys will make a great team We all have horses now Its excited” said Uraraka. “Think deku and gravy will get along”

“I hope so!”

\-----

I woke up early to very few messages announcing that my friends were leaving for U.A. “See you all later!” I texted. 

Deku followed me into the barn quietly and lipped my hair while I wrapped his legs and roughly braided his tail. “You want to say goodbye, buddy?” I asked when I led him out of the stall and back to the pasture. Only Sakura whinnied when she saw him. The other horses were busy with their breakfast. I let the two nuzzle each other for a second. 

“We need to go,” I said, eventually. Deku followed around the barn to the lanes, where Mr. Torino had the trailer ready. Then he stopped and pricked his ears. 

“Has he travelled before?” I asked. 

“He’s been in the trailer once or twice,” said Mr. Torino. 

Was he crazy? We were just going to take him on a four hour drive right then?

“Well, load ‘im up.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Deku took his time, feeling out the rubber footing, but once he spotted the hay net he was completely distracted and easy to tether. I checked his water, then stepped out and closed the trailer’s back door. I loaded my things into the truck cab while Mr. Torino double checked the barn. Skip watched from the barn door, his tail down. 

“You did a good job there,” Mr. Torino said as he got into the driver’s seat. “Barn’s never been cleaner.” 

“Thank you, sir.” I said. 

We headed off, me, my horse and the man who would make sure we stayed together, for the next few months at least. Deku and I were headed home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> I took riding lessons for a couple of years where I learned how to show jump, and enjoy watching show jumping competitions, but have never competed myself. I've never ridden in or watched a cross country competition in person, so I expect there are inaccuracies. If you happen to have found any, please let me know in the comments! 
> 
> Critique on the other things like style, theme, mood, setting, etc is all appreciated!


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